Part 2. Mysteries, hugs and cheap man-whores.

This was probably the 46th time someone had stolen his precious panties. And it was getting very annoying to ask some of Hermione's for loan (soon they would both walk naked under their robes and it wasn't even Christmas yet). Apparently Ron was also complaining. He didn't like to be aware of the fact that his girlfriend used the same clothes as his best friend.

"But mate, it's disturbing," he would whine almost every time he heard Harry talking to Hermione about the newest design.

"You say me wearing strings is disturbing? Well how about you moaning in your bed while spraying hot syrup on yourself in the middle of the night?" Harry would ask, smirking a true Malfoy-style.

"Harry!" Ron would scream scandalized, his ears glowing red.

Heh, good old times. But there was no time for those now. He would have to find Hermione and start to plan Save-My-Favorite-Thongs- rescue thingy.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't see the other person coming behind the corner as he marched to the library to find his best friend.

"Umph," came from both of them as they bumped into each other.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there--," Harry said, not looking at the person as he started to get up from the stone floor.

"Harry!" the other voice exclaimed.

As Harry glanced up he saw a familiar red head and a broad smile.

"Charlie! What are you doing here? How's Romania? Is that a tattoo?" Harry breathed it all out in wonder.

"Slow down Harry, I can't keep up with that speed (well actually he could, but Harry wasn't to know that...yet)," Charlie laughed and hugged Harry who was blushing for his ramble.

"Good to see you, Potter. Long time no see," the gorgeous man said as he let Harry breathe again.

"Yeah, hi," Harry said, smiling shyly.

"Have you gone shy on me, Harry?" Charlie asked, fighting against the smile that was threatening to cross his face.

"What! No, no it's not that. It's just--," Harry couldn't do it. No, he couldn't tell Charlie. He would never live down the shame.

"You know you can tell me everything, right Harry? I'm your brother, a very close brother. I promise I won't laugh," Charlie said as he lifted Harry's face with his index finger so he could see those eyes.

"Uh, well you see, it's these th--," Harry stammered, rubbing his sweaty hands on the back of his robe. And that was as far as he got before a familiar voice trawled behind them, "Well well well. What do we have here. Potty and his ever so loyal Weasel, oh sorry not Weasel but Weasel's big brother Weasel."

Draco Malfoy smirked as he emerged behind the statue where he had been hidind, making sure no one could harm his Potty. Yes, you heard it right. It didn't matter if Potty didn't know it, it was enough that he did and maybe Granger. That stupid know-it-all-bitch.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Can't you see I'm busy?" Harry asked, his face hard as a rock or Draco's --.

"BUSY! Doing what?" Draco demanded and stepped closer.

"Maybe having a conversation with me, Mr. Malfoy?" Charlie asked, his voice cutting butter. He knew when there was a competitor and damn all Hell and Merlin if he was going to give up those eyes.

It was a battle of wills. Charlie-The-Dracontamer-Weasley versus Draconius-The-CuteFerret-Malfoy.

"Eeeh...guys, mmmh, I´ll see you around. I kind of have things to do, thongs to save and girls to date, so mmmh, yeah, bye," Harry said quietly and took of towards the library. He had exactly 20 minutes to find Hermione and run to his first class, which was to his utter disgust potions. He hated Mondays, the days of all Hell and Doom plus Snape's sexy voice. Snape's sexy voice! Harry stopped as soon as the thought had crossed his mind. No, Snape didn't have a sexy voice. It was just the traumatic experience of loosing yet another pair of thongs. May I present Denial.

"GIRLS TO DATE?" echoed on Hogwarts walls as the two adonises came to reality.

Harry sprinted down the corridor towarts the library. Find Hermione, save thongs, don't think about Snape's hypothetic sexy voice. Find Hermione, save thongs--. Harry denial-sang in his mind. After he´d crossed the Great hall he saw Hermione walking through the wooden library doors, heading towards the dungeons.

"Hey Hermione, wait up! Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"So you finally got up from bed. Where's Ron?" she asked looking around and waiting for her boyfriend to jump on her from some stupid hiding place.

"Wha--, no, no Ron. Thongs! Sexy voice!" he panted, catching his breath.

"Thongs? Sexy voice?" she asked, her eyebrows vanishing underneath her brown hair.

"Harry, you are not making any sense. Please explain," she said firmly.

Oh, how she hoped Harry hadn't become addicted to the pixie dust again. Last time was bad enough. She would never forget Harry's love letter to Snape. Actually the whole school would never forget it, like they wouldn't forget Harry's firm arse dancing macarena in front of Snape while the man ate his muffin without a blink of an eye.

"My thongs, well mostly yours, have been stolen again!" Harry said dramatically.

"And how, pray tell, did it happen? Hagrid's crazy Monkshorms attacked you during the night, Seamus finally decided to have a go on you or perhaps Malfoy couldn't hide his fetish any longer?" the Headgirl asked tapping her shoe.

"I don't know," Harry said mournfully. Hermione's stare was fiery so Harry decided to turn on his You-Love-This-Puppy-look and finally managed to breake Hermione's ice.

"Oh for the love of Merlin. Where did you last see them?" she asked and started to drag Harry towards the potion class.

"I left them on my locker-room bench while I was showering after a Quidditc practise yesterday and when I got back I didn't remember to put them on and just walked straight up to bed and in the morning they weren't there anymore," Harry ranted as he sat on his seat at the back of the room.

"We have a mystery on our hands, Harry," Hermione said as she opened her book and took her notes from her bag.

"So you will help me save them?" Harry asked hopefully.

"'Course I will, it's been boring without an adventure for a year. It's our last year in Hogwarts, Harry, and I don't care if it's going to be a thong-rescue thing or something as stupid as that. I need action," she said and got that Evil-glint on her eyes.

"Yay!" Harry shouted.

"If I was a rich man, nanananananananaaa--," Severus hummed as he skipped towards his first lesson of the day. Seventh year Gryffindor/Slytherin. He slammed the door open and marched towards his table. The students who had by now shut their hell holes waited him to start lecture about the day´s potion.

"Does any of you unworthy flobberworms know where I can find a fine, flexible man-ho to satisfy my mighty cock's need of sexual stimulation with 74 galleons?" Severus Snape, every students pain in the arse, dungeon terror, ex-Death Eater, Bumblebee's spy, asked his sevent-year students like he was inquiring the day´s weather.

The class was absolutely silent, until…

"Well Professor, on Friday evenings there is this Mr. Mine-Is-Bigger-Then-Yours patrolling in the streets of Hogsmaede," Seamus Finnigan said a little reservedly. "I heard he can make you scream like Lucius Malfoy in Ferris wheel," he said and got a couple of giggles from the Gryffindors and one tearful face from the Slytherins - Draco Malfoy didn't like when the other kiddies taunted his daddy's fobia.